#Dan: friendly spar? : )

[danthekickingman]

It's true her muscles waxed sore, and sweat stung behind her bandages. Nevertheless, Edith gave an order to fight this mercenary, and if she were to redeem any pride lost then pushing every limit was necessary. And so Beatrix stood to her feet again.

He wasn't surprised. There was an undeniable fire behind her gaze, present there since the moment they’d first faced off. It was relentless - fierce.

Familiar.

He raised his weapons in preparation, taking a few paces to one side as he regarded the warrior before him.

She wasn’t done yet.

Naturally, then, neither was he.

With a sudden move he closed the distance between them, keeping his weapons in position to deflect a counter while readying his own attack. Given her skill with the blade, there was a good chance she’d already begun picking out patterns within his style. He’d have to mix things up if he wished to regain the upper hand.

Taking the thought into action, the kick that followed came from an entirely new angle - a swift, heavy strike aimed straight at her head.

[stealingyourbones]

Here's a cursed ship:

Danny Fenton, out of his parent's grasp, now as an adult, goes to explore rumours of some rotten ectoplasm somewhere in some place called Nanda Parbat.

There he meets the one person that came the closest ever to killing him. Her sword was already in his very human chest before he transformed on instinct, barely avoiding a very painful injury that could've threatened his core.

Naturally, what is a guy to do? Fall head over heels, and gift her with a newly purified pool of ectoplasm that can help heal injuries without the Rage and Madness. Maybe gift her a throne of starlight after he deals with her manipulative old bastard father.

Oh, she has a kid from a prior relationship? Well, if she's ok with it, he'll do his best to help her raise him.

The League shift from indiscriminate murder to more Assassin's Creed-like "maintaining Balance" ideals.

Naturally, this confuses the Bats. They come to investigate.

No one was expecting to see Talia al Ghul sitting on a very comfy-looking throne, with an unknown but clearly powerful guy sparring against a small Damian, while the kid looks like he's having the time of his life.

Of course, as soon as their presence is noted, he's at Talias side, holding the tiny kid in his arms as she delivers her speech.

Oh, he's King of the Infinite Realms? Yeah, but this is the Living Realm, so he's going to defer to his Queen.

Talia initially tried plotting to take the Crown from Danny, but Ember and Kitty (who I headcanon both having dated Danny at different points of his life) laugh as if she told them a joke, and Grandpa Clocky takes his new Granddaughter-in-law aside to show her how her betrayal and manipulation would bring about Dan, stopping that plan in it's tracks then and there.

Ellie floats into the room in the middle of their discussion, and to add further confusion for poor Brucie, scoops up Damian and loudly announces she's taking her half-brother out for ice cream (female clone, from a boy's DNA? Yeah, Talia's DNA was exactly what was needed to stabilise her permanently).

Bruce is in a crisis.

Jason is laughing his ass off, now that Danny took the rotten ectoplasm out and put in fresh ecto in it's place, and he can properly appreciate the situation, especially how Danny looks like he could be related to Bruce, so naturally Talia also has a type.

Tim is three seconds away from asking for his spleen back.

Cass is dangling from Danny's shoulders after, in classic Ghost customs, she tried to attack him as an introduction. She's fine being carried like a sac of flour, Jason does that with her, too.

Dick, Duke, Steph and Babs stayed behind to protect Gotham, but Babs is always watching and/or listening, and she's a horrible gossip.

It's also Jason that comes to the horrifying realization that, the reason why Danny is still with Talia, is because Ghost culture is weird enough to be normal for the League, he's a similar type of dumbass as Bruce, without the elaborate revenge plot, AND he's a simp for women who could kill him.

Essentially: Danny is the cute lovable dumbass, who's Into That when his Love Interest has the capacity to easily kill him or snap him in half, if it weren't for the Ghost thing. And Ghost instincts are the kind of feral that Damian vibes with, so Damian likes this random guy Talia found on their doorstep, who's so stupid and yet competent he comes back around to being attractive, and is Commited to his new family.

I have yet to hear a friendly stepdad(?) Danny prompt before and I am loving it

[ectospacecadet]

Of course I was going to draw them together as their Phantom selves!

Canon!Danny and Retold!Danny are having fun partying it up, woot woot!

Aaand then there’s Dan and Damien, having a friendly sparring session. I’m sure they’ll be fine ^^

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

A Friendly Sparring Match-Seele X Reader

Full disclosure, this was just an excuse to write a fight scene

I think I'm going to try and clear out my Blazblue asks next

“Don’t worry, you three will be fine! It's just a friendly sparring match after all. I’m sure they won’t be too mean about it.” Seele muttered as she waved her hand and pushed you into the group’s field of view.

“Now, with that out of the way, I have an appointment to get to!” Seele lied as naturally as she breathed.

All this chaos with the Stellaron and the reconnection of Belobog, it was too much to keep up with.

If Natasha hadn’t reminded her about the date she would have completely forgotten something she had drilled into her head for the last 364 days.

The first year anniversary of you and her dating.

Sure, she may be tossing them into the fire, but they could fight off a giant robot, surely they’ll be able to stay on even ground with you for a while.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“I can’t find a way in!” Stelle exclaimed to herself in her head as she was pushed onto the back foot, holding up her lance to stop your fist from knocking her head clean off.

However, it did not stop her from being sent flying back and into a wall, creating a crater.

Before you could advance further on the trailblazer, a spear attempted to impale you from behind.

However, you sidestepped the strike and then, while Dan Heng was still in the process of regretting every decision he had ever made, sent the mother of all left hooks right into the side of his face, sending him flying away like a ragdoll and turning your back on Stelle in the process.

Doing her best to capitalize on Dan Heng’s misfortune, Stelle rushed forward, her lance ready to run you through.

However, the trailblazer underestimated what a fighter like you could do.

At the last possible second, you slipped past the attack, and stepped deep inside the range of the Trailblazer.

Your left foot was forward, your right was pulled back, your left hand closest to Stelle and your right hand held at your eye’s level.

In the blink of an eye, four lightning fast jabs shot out, all for landing on her chin and causing her entire body to go limp.

Unfortunately for Stelle, you were not done with this particular attack as you pulled your right hand back and to your waist.

Then, as Stelle fell, you launched the viscous uppercut.

It landed squarely on her chin, the force of it forcing her onto her feet as you jumped back and then rushed back in, sending another uppercut straight into her gut.

Needless to say, she was sent flying away.

However, to pick up her friend's slack, the arrows of March 7th began to rain down upon you.

You had two options at this moment.

Advance or Retreat.

Obviously, you chose to advance.

The ground shattered under your feet as you rushed forward, your fists held in front of you as you slipped and dodged and bobbed in between each arrow.

In an instant you were infront of March, your fist pulled back and ready to send her into next week.

Without hesitation, you threw your attack.

However, at the last second, Dan Heng’s spear knocked your strike out of the way, saving March from seeing the future.

Though, it did not save her from Dan Heng kicking her out of the way as he blocked the storm of bone shaking jabs with the haft of his spear.

Dan Heng’s hands grew number and number with every blow to his spear.

He needed to find a point to counterattack soon, otherwise he won’t be able to hold on to his weapon.

Ten more blows forced him to change his plan to simply getting away.

Three more forced his spear to fly away.

A single left stunned him.

A pair of heavy right hooks knocked his lights out.

And with that, only March was still standing.

“I… uh… couldn’t interest you in a seminar about our expert conductor and mascot Pom Pom could I?” March asked.

She was answered by waking up in Natasha’s clinic with the mother of all stomach aches.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Wah! Why does everything hurt!?” March sobbed as she laid on the carpet, a cup or juice next to her.

“Hey, at least you only got a gut punch, I nearly got my jaw broken.” Stelle groaned as she laid next to March on her back.

A series of muffled and irritated grunts came from the wheelchair bound mummy that was known as Dan Heng.

As the group began to argue amongst themselves, the door was opened.

In the doorway, stood the architect of their suffering.

Seele.

Dan Heng attempted to stand up but was promptly reminded of why he was in the wheelchair.

Stelle, shot up, the pain that was shooting through her entire body nearly forcing her to collapse back onto the floor.

March merely continued to sob on the floor.

“Wow, you three look like you got caught in a cave in.” Seele declared as she crossed her arms.

“Screw you Seele.” Stelle Groaned as she leaned on the end of one of the beds.

Dan Heng let out a string of completely indecipherable words that could’ve only been profanity.

“What’s with all the hostility!?” Seele exclaimed in concern.

“A FRIENDLY SPARRING MATCH!!!” the trio exclaimed in pain.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

How would Damon react if black belter darling met someone else in the promotion test and ends up hitting it off with them? Spending more time w them, friendly closr sparring ykyk

Yandere! Jock x fem! reader

Another ask of an ask! (Do people not like the original fic/nerd reader ;3;) Hmm, I think this one's pretty obvious, so let's see!

What if: Black belter reader met somebody else in the promotional test?

For new readers to understand this one, refer to this what if fic!

main fic for Damon is this one featuring a nerd reader!

Damon clicked his tongue.

It's been the fifth time since you skipped training him.

His progress got slower since you decided to focus on other things, which came with your successful promotion to 1st dan. Sure, he didn't mind that. But god, was it torture not seeing you for so long.

He slumped down on the floor, boredly looking at the teacher in front of him. She was teaching them how to do a complicated kick that included a spin in them.

His mind zoned out, thinking back to the last time both of you interacted for a long time.

It was immediately after your promotion. And you, in your excitement, jumped to his embrace in a rare grin filled face.

"I passed the promotion!" You exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

Damon didn't expect this. You were holding him like this without your usual cold attitude, but rather in an excited tone that felt so foreign to him.

He felt like a lost child, suddenly getting hugged by a stranger that has the face of his parent.

"Uh... Sensei?" He whispered, prodding at your reaction.

"Hmm? What's up?" You asked with a smile and he almost buckled to his knees. You didn't even correct him this time!

"N-nothing. Congratulations!" He decided to say despite being whiplashed by the bizzare situation as you grinned widely.

That time was refreshing since you didn't scowl at him as usual. And his masochistic tendencies was soothed, exchanging with the deep need to monopolize your smile just for him.

Do you smile like that for others too?

He shudders at the thought.

Just thinking about it makes his blood boil.

Just as the lesson is finished, Damon got a chat from you.

"And she cancels the sparring again..." He whispered. He missed feeling your strong kicks on his body, marring his skin with bruises that he deserves and loves.

Feeling a bit neglected, he kicks and fusses like a toddler at the back, kind of grateful nobody was paying attention to him-- cuz honestly, it's embarrassing to see this grown man throw a tantrum gently like a kid.

Wait, he tracks your location! So why not see what you're up to anyways.

You weren't cheating on him, right?

The delusional man shook his head. It's impossible that you're cheating on him. Sure, he can let you sparring with other people slide. But your smile is reserved for him and him only.

If others saw it, then a nice pair of eyeballs would be a nice substitute for pingpong balls, right? Maybe not. But he'll be happy to bounce those eyes that are underserving of seeing your beautiful smile.

He got up from the floor and got to his cubby, getting all of his things before checking his phone once more. You're in the city dojang. Good, that means that you're doing work.

He hopes.

He hopped on his motorcycle and revved it to life, driving towards the city proper and to the dojang building.

What excuse would he say when you see him? Hmm...

As he's thinking of what to say, he heard a giggle that was vaguely familiar, yet strangely foreign.

It's a giggle, but from a voice he knew too well.

With a shake in his legs, he peered from the pillar and saw you laughing with a guy, one that he doesn't know, and know that this guy is not a relative.

His jaw ticked, the ugly jealousy reeling its twisted neck to the direction in which you were talking so amicably with this man that's not him. On an equal footing, a place in which he knew is undeserving of.

The usual chatterbox was silent, the sweet himbo facade gone from his perturbed face.

His large hand on the corner of the building, he pears through the side as he watched you amicably invite the man to a match. He noticed that he's also a 1st dan belt holder, and Damon seethes in jealousy. Damon held his now blue belt. He's still too far from your reach.

His grip tightened to the point that a chunk of the building came off, but Damon didn't even give a fuck.

His eyes gazed at your body, and flinched everytime they hit the body of your opponent. At the same time, rage filled him everytime the man hit you back.

Nobody is allowed to hurt you. Nobody is allowed to be hurt by you.

Your pain, only his. Your strength should also only be him to bare.

He knows what to do.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Damon held his face. His elbow on his knees as he sat down on a bench in this abandoned basement of a zoo. He looked tired, and the himbo facade was gone.

In front of him is the glass wall of what looks like what once was an orca or dolphin showroom. The whole pool that was once teeming with activities and water and life, was now empty, except for a man tied to a chair, asleep.

Damon sighed, brushing back his hair as he pressed his forehead on the glass wall. He wants to hurt this man so bad, and from the prominent veins bulging against his skin on his biceps, he was holding himself back greatly.

When he saw the man twitching, Damon backed away and suited up. Disposable boots, a disposable ppe suit, and a mask to cover his face. Along with a bucket filled with quite the rusty tools, he headed up and to the pool.

He slid down from the top to the pool and to the deep end. Damon already sliced this man's tendons, so he can't run away.

It was quite easy to kidnap him really.

In a busy place in the city, he got up to the man and introduced himself. Damon was friendly, wanting to be friends with the man due to being a fan of his martial arts prowess. The man, naive and boastful, liked Damon immediately. Damon is smart, and led the man away to places he knew there's no cctv camera. And making sure what the cameras captured is the man being led back to his house, and acted as if Damon went home.

But in reality, when Damon went home, he invited the man to hang out via conversing with him earlier. So that no digital evidence will be left just like how it would leave an evidence if he used chats or calls. Damon invited the man to a much more secluded part but busy of the city, in which he knew that people will be too busy with their own shit rather than looking around. And it's the industrial parts. Then and there, driving a stolen car that was sold without so much of a contractual and recorded transaction, Damon slowly peppered the man with melanin gummies, making the man sleep...

And, with the injection of a much more powerful anesthesia and sedative, Damon successfully kidnapped the man without so much of an evidence tracing back to him.

With the man waking up, Damon wore the gloves.

Oh, and did I mention the man's lips were sown shut with expired medical threads too?

As Damon approached the scared man, who looks like he's about to piss his pants, Damon only gave him a cold stare of contempt and arrogance.

"Only I get to enjoy y/n. And you, you're an intruder in that small, happy space that only the both of us got to enjoy."

The man is not going to live to tell the tale.

Damon will make sure of that.

[isabella-kr]

Chapter Three: Inferno

THIS STORY WILL INCLUDE MATURE THEMES, PLEASE ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR OVER.

IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE, YOU CAN READ THE WATTPAD VERSION INSTEAD AS IT WILL CONTAIN NO SMUT.

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REPRESENT THE REAL ARMY

Chapter synopsis: It was supposed to be an easy mission, but it all quickly went wrong, and No-Face found herself disobeying orders to save her stern captain. 

Pairing: John Price x Female!Reader 

Warnings! Canon-typical violence, swearing, descriptions of violence, injuries, murder and a near-death experience. 

Word Count: 6.9k - long ass chapter oof

Series Masterlist | COD:MWII Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

GIF not mine

Her heart-beat was erratic and breathing harsh as she attempted to calm her nerves. Her foot was bobbing up and down, tapping against the metal floor of the giant helo. The air smelt of metal and sweat, and she could feel bile raising, stuck in her throat as she breathed in. She was sure her lips were curled in a disgusted manner, because Tom, who was sat beside her, raised a concerned brow.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly as he asked, “Are you alright?”  

She could only nod, tongue wetting her chapped lips, “Just nerves.” she assured him, “I haven’t been on a mission in a while...”

He hummed in thought, keeping his hand on her shoulder. She seemed to appreciate the friendly touch as her body turned less tense at the contact.  

“Is he always so quiet?” she eventually asked, glancing at the other sergeant – Dan Morris – who was sat opposite her. During the two months she had been on base, she barely had the opportunity to speak to him, or rather he refused to speak to her much. He was a loner, that much was clear, but the way he avoided conversation with everyone was strange.  

Thomas nodded, scooting closer towards her so their shoulders were pressed together, “Yeah,” he whispered, “He doesn’t speak to anyone, really. Don’t know if he likes silence or if he just thinks he’s better than everyone else. He does communicate during missions though; Price wouldn’t have him on the team if he didn’t. He’s a good soldier – great sniper.”  

She raised a brow in return, “The sniping skills got to his head?”

“Nah,” Thomas breathed out a laugh, “His grandfather was a General. He acted like he owned the place the minute he joined the army.”  

She hummed in thought, watching as the redheaded soldier played with the gun in his hands. His eyes were focused, and lacked any emotion. He would make a great Assassin, she thought to herself; his confidence was unmatched, and the way he carried himself during sparring and training sessions proved he knew exactly what he was doing – the Director would love him.

“He’s got connections,” Thomas added, “The older generation knows him, and pulled a few strings to get him where he is. Doesn’t help that a few of them pity him.”  

No-Face raised her brow at that, and lightly angled her face to look at the man beside her. Noticing her confused gaze, he continued.  

“His grandfather – the general – was murdered in his own home; tied up to a chair in his own office with his throat slashed open. It was never solved, the bastard got away without leaving a trace.” He paused for a second, contemplating whether he should continue, “Dan was the one who found him, though he says he doesn’t remember anything from that night.”  

She felt pity for the young soldier, her teeth digging into her bottom lip at that thought of how traumatic the experience must have been. He might not have remembered a thing, but she was sure the event stayed heavy in his heart. Her eyes were set on him when he looked up, his own eyes locking with hers. She sent him a small smile, but he didn’t return it, only moving his head to the side to avoid further contact.  

Now that she thought about it, he did have an aura of superiority about him. The way he moved and treated the other soldiers around him was less than pleasant; he was rude and snappy, and the others were visibly uncomfortable around him. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, but even then, his behaviour wasn’t appropriate.  

She waved off the thought with a shrug, her eyes landing on Price’s form as he approached the group. “Ten minutes,” he let them know, checking his equipment for the fifth time that night. “We all clear on the plan?”

“Yes, sir,” they all spoke in unison.  

He nodded, muttering a small ‘good’ under his breath. His boots stomped against the metal when he approached her, raising a small brow at the closeness between her and Thomas. He smiled, however, perhaps glad she had finally found a friend after a decade of solitude.  

“You ready, No-Face?” he questioned her.  

She sent him a small nod, the corners of his lips pulling into a gentle, yet nervous smile, “As ready as I’ll ever be, sir.”

“Your comms on?” The question was directed at all three of them, and after checking whether the device was working properly, they answered with a hard ‘yes, sir’.  

The ten minutes felt more like five, and before they even knew it, the helo was landing in the middle of nowhere. They were surrounded by thick trees the moment they stepped out of the machine, the almost full moon shining down at them as if in a warning. She stared up at the bright ball of light in the sky, letting the brightness of it wash over her as they began making their way towards the towering trees.  

“You gonna wolf out?” Thomas joked, lifting his legs high to step over a fallen branch.

She shook her head at him, and refrained from rolling her eyes, “It’s barely a waning gibbous,” she pointed out.  

Even in the darkness, she could see how he scrunched up his nose, “A waning what?”  

“It’s a moon phase,” she told him, as if it was obvious, “The one right before the full moon.”  

Price, who was walking ahead of them, glanced over his shoulder before sharing a look with Dan, who was walking beside him. She could see how they both shook their heads, mildly amused by the conversation.  

“D’you hear that, sir?” Thomas picked up his pace to walk closer to his superior. She followed in his tracks, walking behind Dan. “Waning gibbous is a-”

“Yes, I’ve heard, Sergeant. Very interesting,” he faked enthusiasm about the topic.  

“She still didn’t answer the question, though,” Thomas retorted, a smug look on his face.  

Price almost told him to shut up, but decided he wanted to hear his next words.  

No-Face, on the other hand, raised a confused brow. “Are you gonna wolf out?” he asked once again.

John almost groaned, and Dan shook his head in disappointment. She smiled, however, shaking her head in amusement, “Yeah. I’ll turn into Peter Stubbe in the middle of the night and eat you.”  

“That goes against protocol,” Thomas told her, “Can’t hurt a fellow teammate and whatnot.”  

She hummed, her head tilting, “Permission to eat him, sir?”  

Perhaps on base, John wouldn’t have engaged in the mindless bickering, but right now, in the middle of nowhere and not knowing whether they would make it out alive, he found himself more eager to humour them. “Granted,” he replied.  

She grinned at the blond beside her, whose mouth was opened wide and a look of betrayal appeared on his face. He was about to say something – argue with his superior – when they suddenly stopped in their tracks.  

Before them, underneath a small cliff was the hidden base they were supposed to infiltrate. It wasn’t large, but it wasn’t tiny either. There were two watch towers at the front of the gated area, where they could see soldiers marching back and forth, keeping watch. They had torches attached to their guns, and the bright light was strong enough to blind for a short amount of time.  

Behind the two watch towers were three buildings, but only one of them held what they were searching for. Information.  

The mission was simple; go in, raise as little suspicion as possible, download the information they needed, and get out of there unseen, or – if the mission was to go awry – before the reinforcements arrived.  

“Four men on the towers,” Dan spoke for the first time that night, looking through the scope of his sniper rifle, “Two on each side.”  

Price nodded, “Right. We make our way inside the towers first.”  

“Why not shoot the watch first?” Thomas raised a brow.

Price looked over at him, “You think they wouldn’t notice them gone?” he questioned. It was obvious they would – the torches were strong and bright, and there was no doubt suspicion would be raised if they, all of a sudden, stopped moving.  

“We gotta go in quietly,” Price said, “Take out the men inside the towers first, then make our way to base.”  

“There’s not many of them out,” Dan pointed out, still looking through the scope.

No-Face hummed, “The rest is probably hiding inside the building.”  

Dan nodded, “All the lights in the Southern building are turned off,” he told them, “The Northern building is most active, I can see about ten of them through the windows. Think there’s about five in the Eastern one.”  

“Let’s move,” Price eventually ordered.  

The four were on the move in an instant, voices hushed and footsteps soft as they approached the entrance of the base. They were in between the trees, movements careful and calculated to make as little noise as possible.  

“We need to do this quietly,” Price spoke, stopping the group in its tracks, “One wrong move and everything goes to shit. You see that hatch?” he pointed at a small hatch door on the side of the building, “We’re gonna have to squeeze through there.”  

Just as they began to move once more, the door to the building was pushed open, the metal slamming harshly against the brick wall. A soldier, covered in cargo from head-to-toe, stepped outside with a frustrated look on his face. Slamming the door shut, he pulled out a cigarette and set it alight with shaky hands. The soldier muttered something under his breath and kicked a rock, watching as it angrily hit the bark of a tree.  

“Sir,” No-Face whispered, “I can take him out without raising suspicion,” she told him, eyes glancing upwards at the men on top of the towers, who shone their torches at the angry man on the ground.

Price contemplated her words; distrust was clear on his face, yet despite this, he nodded. It was the only way. They couldn’t get in without getting rid of the man, and shooting him was not an option.  

She silently squeezed between the captain and Dan Morris, the latter sending John a sceptical look, that Price chose to ignore. The way she moved between the bushes and trees could only be described as expert-like; she made no sound, and knew exactly how to make her movements swift to go unnoticed.

Crouching a metre or two away from the hatch, she hid behind a thick bush covered by one of the trees. The three men shared a look when she placed her hand in front of her face and then-

Whistle.  

A high-pitched, yet quiet enough to not arouse suspicion from the men on top of the buildings. The frustrated soldier snapped his head in the direction of the noise and puffed out the last bit of smoke before stomping on the cigarette. Pulling his gun out of its holster, he began moving in her direction, his eyes wild, yet focused on his surroundings.  

The moment his foot stepped in front of her, she stood, her hand covering his mouth as a knife was silently plunged into his neck. His hands moved to his neck in an instant, the gun falling to the floor as he attempted to stop the blood flow, which only increased once the knife was pulled out of his throat.  

Quietly, she laid him back on the ground and watched as his eyes began to turn dull; the blood he was choking on splattered on his face and darkly pooled around his head. As a tear rolled down his cheek, whatever life was left in him finally left, leaving him motionless on the dirty ground.  

“Clear,” she told her team through the comms, and remained crouched beside the dead body until they joined her by the tree.  

Price glanced at the body once, his eyes narrowing. She could only assume the worst about what he was thinking, and it was only when she noticed a sad look in his eye when she remembered; the way she got rid of the enemy was almost exactly the same as when she murdered his teammate a mere ten years ago. She could feel the guilt blooming in her chest, and stood up before it could show on her face.  

He looked at her then, perhaps searching for any injuries, before turning and making his way towards the door hatch. The three followed close behind him, keeping watch as he used his knife to disable the lock on the bottom of the small door.  

It opened with a squeak, and the three paused, remaining silent when the door was opened all the way up. No hostile heard the high-pitched sound, and Thomas let out a breath of relief when his captain gestured for them to make their way inside.  

Dan was first to make his way in, twisting and turning as he struggled to fit his body through the small opening. No-Face followed soon after, also wrestling her way through the old hatch. She could feel it scratch against the material of her trousers, and a part of her feared it would rip into it.  

The moment she was on the other side, surrounded by dust and mould in a cramped room, Dan held out his hand toward her. She took it with a small smile, and allowed him to help pull her up to her feet.  

“Thanks,” she whispered, and tried to pull her hand away from his, yet his tightening grip stopped her. He twisted her hand in his just enough to land his eyes on her wrist where, on the black leather that covered her palms, was an embroidered scythe.  

The gloves were one of the few parts of her old uniform that she kept, and the way he stared at the scythe that was burned into her eyelids ever since she was a child made her uneasy. His stare was harsh, and she had to forcefully pull her hand away to escape his grip.  

His eyes were still set on her when she turned – his glare harsh, and she felt as though he could see right through her; as though he could look into her mind and read her every thought. It was unnerving, and she was eager to leave the stuffy room the second Thomas and John finally made it inside.  

“Everyone clear on the plan?” he asked for what felt like the hundredth time that night.  

They all nodded, and the moment he opened the door, they split into two groups. Thomas and Dan moved together through the cold corridors, whilst No-Face kept close to the captain. He refused to let her out of his sight, it seemed. She couldn’t blame him; she would have acted exactly the same if their roles were reversed.  

Aside for the distant chatter in one of the rooms, the building was quiet – quiet enough for her to hear as her own heart pumped the thick blood through her veins. Their guns were at the ready, raised securely in their arms as they prepared for any onslaught that could come their way.  

They remained undetected, and before they knew it, they were standing in front of a thick door that led to a tunnel they were searching for. John looked at her over his shoulder, and as they exchanged a nod, he opened the metal door. Not all the way - too afraid it would begin to creak and groan - but just enough to let them slip through the crack.  

The brick tunnel was cold, and strangely moist. There was water running down each wall, some of it even dripping from the ceiling and onto their heads. Their boots splashed the water that had gathered on the floor, and she was hoping there was no-one on the other side, because she was sure the echo would have alerted them of their presence the moment they stepped foot in the dimly lit passageway.  

“Captain,” she muttered faintly, her only response from the man being a gentle nod, “I never apologised.”  

He slowed down his movements to walk beside her, “For what?”

The look on her face told him everything he needed to know, yet she spoke nonetheless, “About our first meeting,” About me murdering your squad in cold blood, “And about Munich.”  

“Do you really think this is the right time for this?” he raised a brow, though his face remained stoic.

She shrugged, “I don’t think there will ever be a right time to talk about this, sir,” she told him, and he knew it was true. “I just... in case we – or I – don't make it out of here alive, I want you to know I am sorry. My whole life revolved around orders, so I did what I was told. I wish I knew better back then, but I didn’t, so I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.”  

He remained silent, focusing on the sound of his boots hitting the wet, stone floor, and searching for any suspicious noises in the distance. He remained alert, and whilst she did too, it was clear he was more concentrated on the mission than she was.  

“I know a sorry won’t fix the past,” she added as they neared their destination, “But I wanted you to know anyway.”  

There was confusion written on his face. Not from her apologies, no, but rather because of what he saw before them. Fresh bricks, with the cement still wet – settling – were guarding an archway, preventing any to walk through it.  

She stepped towards the wall, her hand pressing against the red bricks, “Weren’t we supposed to go this way?” she voiced, hopeful she was mistaken.  

Unfortunately, Price nodded, reaching for his comms, “The tunnel’s gone. We’re gonna have to find another way out.”  

“Copy,” Thomas answered.  

Sparing one last glanced at the bricked-up wall, they continued to move forward. They remained silent for the rest of their walk, not a peep leaving either of their mouths. The noise their boots made was enough to have them on guard, proceeding the rest of the way with their guns at the ready.  

It was quiet the moment they reached another door, the light from the other side seeping through the cracks and lighting up the dreadful tunnel. John raised a finger at her, causing her to still unnaturally; her breathing slowed, and body turned tense as he moved closer to the door. He pressed an ear against the metal, and once he deemed it safe enough, he carefully turned the handle and pushed it open.  

Although the corridor was lit up - the brightness almost blinding – it looked to be empty. They both released a sigh of relief once they slipped through the crack in the door, and moved quickly to hide in a darkened, dead-end corridor.

“Southwick, you in?” John whispered into his comms, turning to make sure No-Face was situated right behind him.  

“Yes, sir,” Thomas replied, “Got eyes on all security.”  

John’s eyes closed in relief, “You see us?”  

They both turned towards the security camera in the corner of the corridor, and watched as it was moved in their direction. “Affirmative,” Thomas assured them, “Bad news: you’re in the northern building. Good News: all the hostiles are on the first and second floors. If you move quietly, you should be able to make it out without alerting them that you’re there.”  

“You’ll have to lead us to the nearest exit,” John told him seriously.  

“Well, there’s a window at the end of the corridor to your right,” Thomas said, “From there, the eastern building will be right ahead – make your way around it and southern will be easy to access.”  

John hummed, “Morris, how copy?”

“In position,” he answered, “No movement in the square. All hostiles are inside.” 

“Copy that,” John replied, gesturing at No-Face to follow behind him.  

The two crept through the corridor, hands never leaving their guns as they neared the old window. John was the first to put his hands on the handle and attempt to turn it in his grasp, but the lock wouldn’t budge.  

“It’s locked, Southwick,” John commented, “Gotta get us out another way.”  

“On it,” Thomas replied curtly, “See that door on your left? It leads to a series of corridors, away from the main one. Should be safe.”  

Nodding at No-Face, the two opened the wooden door and made their way inside. Unlike all the other corridors in the building, this one was pitch black, not a slither of light in sight. The windows were barred shut, preventing even moonlight from reaching its walls. She flipped the switch on her torch, and only then were they truly able to see what was in front of them.  

The place was a mess. Old furniture, broken guns and even a few syringes littered the filthy floor. It looked as though it had been unused for years, and the scratched-up walls with paint falling off almost made it look like a scene from a horror movie. Although disgusting, the abandoned look put them at ease; no-one used this part of the building, meaning they were safe – at least for now.  

“Go left.”  

The two followed Thomas’ orders, turning left, right, walking straight, and turning back whenever he told them to. The dust that lingered in the air made it difficult to breathe; she felt it setting on her lungs, and pulled her mask up to her nose once she felt a cough forming in her throat.  

When Price looked back at her, she could have sworn she could see the flashbacks flashing in his eyes. He tightened the hold on his gun, and as his eyes narrowed, quickened his pace. The cameras moved whenever they passed them, following the duo as they searched for the closest – and safest – exit.  

“You’ll have to go through there,” Thomas’ voice echoed in her ears.  

The wooden door creaked as it was opened. They both winced, and No-Face switched off her torch once the illuminated corridor came into view. They swiftly moved out, and kept their footsteps soft, fearing the wooden floor would betray their whereabouts.  

There were several footsteps audible from the floor above them, the ceiling creaking, and dust falling to the floor beneath as the hostiles moved about. With a sudden slam, and several stomping boots moving in their direction, the two hid underneath the emptiness of a dark staircase.  

They were practically pressed flush against one another, the little space not giving them much room to get comfortable. She was half-hidden behind John’s crouched body, both of them stiff and frozen in space as two soldiers walked down, stopping right in front of them.  

One of them cursed, and the other began to speak in a language John seemed to recognise, but didn’t fully understand. She leaned forward, her masked cheek practically pressing against his shoulder as she listened to their frustrated voices.

Her eyes only seemed to widen the longer she eavesdropped on their conversation, and when the captain noticed her concerned gaze, he couldn’t help but mirror her expression. She almost flinched when one of the hostiles took the gun out of his holster and began to wildly gesture with his hands. She was almost afraid that, in a fit of rage, he was going to use the gun on his friend; but in the end, the two dispersed and walked in opposite directions.  

“I don’t know what they said,” John whispered, tilting his head to look at her, “But I think you did, and judging by the look on your face it wasn’t anything good.”  

“We need to hurry,” she told him, and when her eyes landed on an open window at the end of the corridor, she jumped into action. Her legs moved on their own, and Price was sure to follow close behind, jumping out through the broken glass and landing on the soil outside.  

Once she was sure they were both in the clear, she turned to look at her superior, grabbing his arm and dragging him behind a bush. “They’re gonna have a delivery in 25 minutes or so, sir,” she warned him, “Two trucks; loaded with artillery and two dozen soldiers. The towers have been infiltrated by us – they won’t be able to get in contact with the security. It’s only a matter of minutes before they realise we’re here.”  

“Shit,” John cursed, his voice gruff as he stood. Without another thought, they were on the move again.  

They zig-zagged between the jagged scraps of metal that cluttered the ground, taking safety behind bushes and tall trees whenever a sound of boots, or chatter, sounded nearby. They avoided the bright light from the watchmen atop the towers, who were ignorant to the fact the men inside of the very same tower were previously met with swift death.  

They crouched down beside the wall of the eastern building, keeping close to it as they rushed underneath the windows. Some of the hostiles seemed to be in a good mood that night, as laughter and the clinking of glasses was loud from the inside. Some of them were louder than others, their speech slurring as they sang along to a song that played in the background; she didn’t recognise the song, but the upbeat rhythm was pleasant to the ear.  

“Lost visual of you two,” Thomas spoke trough the comms.

“We’re about to enter southern,” No-Face replied, her muscles flexing when she pulled herself up, her feet slamming against the floor once she was inside. A dust cloud formed around them both at the impact, and Price let out a soft cough as it entered his airways. “You think 15 minutes is enough to get the info and leave?”

“Uh,” Thomas didn’t sound happy, “What’s going to happen in 15 minutes?”  

As the two made their way through the dark building, her footsteps following close behind her captains, she sighed, “Their friends are going to join the party.” 

“You mean the two trucks coming right now?”” It was Dan who spoke up this time, his voice as low and emotionless as ever.  

Slamming the metal door open, the two sprinted down towards the basement, their breathing heavy, “How long we got?”  

“5 minutes tops.”  

“Shit,” Price cursed, rushing to one of the many monitors and sticking his thumb-drive in the computer. “Go watch the door,” he ordered as he began to type on the keyboard.  

She followed the order without question, rushing up the steep flight of stairs. Her senses were working on overdrive as her hands clutched onto the ICR-1 assault rifle; she was listening and looking in every direction, her concentration never wavering as she searched for any changes in her surroundings. It was as though she had manifested the trouble; a small group of soldiers entered the building with a loud crash.  

Sweat was falling down her temples, and harsh breaths left her nose when she moved back, standing at the edge of the staircase as she quietly closed the door. The stern voices of men were only growing closer and closer, her heartbeat growing loud in her ears as the nerves began to get the better of her.  

No. She couldn’t get distracted now. Not when they were so close to completing the mission. Not when John was still downloading the information. Not when she was meant to protect him from harm's way.  

The moment she heard them stop outside the door, she swung it open. The brute force knocked one of the men out as it slammed against his head, but the other three were luckier. They weren’t prepared for the sudden attack, however, as none of them even reached for their guns in surprise.  

Using the shock in her advantage, she shot at one of the men, the silencer at the barrel of her gun quietening what would have otherwise been a very loud bang. The other two seemed to regain their senses as they jumped at her, one of them attempting to disarm her, grabbing onto her arms as the other one kicked her knee.  

She groaned in pain, wrestling with the man who held her gun whilst simultaneously kicking the man who stepped behind her. The heel of her foot kicked his crotch, and he choked as the pain caused his legs to become almost immobile. Whilst he was on knees – as though preparing for prayer – she tightened the grip on her rifle as slammed the barrel against the soldier’s chest, the hard metal punching the air out of his lungs.  

She then slammed the gun against his head, and watched as his body turned limp, falling to the floor. The blood was quick to gush out, painting his dark hair a scarlet colour. The kneeling man wasn’t spared in the fight, and a knee to his face was sure to deem him unconscious. A harsh crack echoed in the empty corridor; his nose was visibly broken, the bone sticking to the side when he fell backwards to the ground.  

She was out of breath, the physical excretion mixed with the heaviness of her rifle and tactical gear stole the energy from her. Training for the past two months might have made her stronger, but it was never the same as it was on the field. The moment the adrenaline began to wear off, the exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks.  

“No-Face, how copy?” John’s voice reached her from the comms, no doubt the sudden silence causing him to worry.  

“Had to put some of our friends to sleep, sir,” she told him, “How long left?”  

“ten minutes,” he replied.  

“I don’t think we’ve got that long, captain,” Dan voiced, “The trucks got here, and the drivers are getting impatient. Southwick’s trying to figure out how to open the gate.”  

“Isn’t there a button?” She questioned with a raised brow.  

“No,” Thomas responded, “I need a fucking code.”  

Just then, as she was about to reply, the loud shrieking of an alarm sounded throughout the base. The corridor turned a bright red, the colour washing over her like a threat; Get out of here, it told her, get out whilst you still have the chance.  

Shots rang out in the distance, and her eyes widened when she approached the window and saw the tower under attack. Despite the want to go out there and aid her friend in the battle, she stayed put, knowing she had to guard her captain in case the hostiles came her way.  

And come her way they did. She opened the door wide open and hid behind its metal, her rifle readily aiming at the edge of the corridor.  

The hostiles rushed in like a stampede, a dozen soldiers running at her with bullets flying in the air. She shot back quickly, the bullets lodging themselves in her enemies; some fell to the floor, whilst others prevailed.  

Eventually, they were too close for comfort, and when one of them pulled out a knife, she knew she was in trouble. He practically dived in her direction, the knife slashing in the air as he cornered her against a wall. She fought back, punching and kicking against him until he could take it no longer.  

She didn’t have time to rest, running at the man who was turned away from her; she kicked herself off the sturdy wall, grabbed onto the door and wrapped her thigh around his neck. The sudden weight caused him to topple to the floor, her leg only tightening around his throat.

A foot came towards her head, and it was only at the last second that she moved out of its way. She never let go off the mad between her legs, not even when he began to choke and slam against her calf in desperation. The other man pointed a gun at her face, but before he could kill her, she grabbed onto it and moved the barrel forward just as he pressed the trigger.  

Some divine form of luck had to be looking over her – there was no other explanation for the way the bullet lodged itself in the brain of a man between her thighs. “Friendly fire,” she mused, pushing herself off the floor and kicking the man against the wall. He struggled against her, doing his best to push her away, but to no avail.  

With a swift lift of her arm, she pulled a knife that was attached to his thigh and lodged it between his eyes, groaning when the blood sprayed on her face. The corridor was littered with bodies by the time she was done, and the floor was pooled with blood, the red shining underneath the identically scarlet light of the alarm.  

A gunshot from the basement caught her attention, and she sprinted down the staircase at the speed of light. The captain had his gun raised towards a limp body once she made it downstairs – he was winded, breathing heavy from wrestling with the hostile.

“Sorry, sir,” she spoke seriously, “He must’ve slipped past.”

He nodded, “You alright?”  

“Yes, sir,” she assured him, and he smiled softly, “Morris, Southwick, how copy?” 

“The hostiles breached the gate, sir,” Dan’s voice was the first to reach them.  

“There’s dozens of them, cap,” Thomas chimed in, “How long left?”

“Two minutes,” He responded, and she almost groaned at the news.  

“We’ll hold them back,” Dan assured, and as soon as he said those words, more shots were fired on the base.  

The two shared a look, and Price walked back towards the computer, slamming his hands against the desk as though that would make the download move faster. She understood his frustration, her own starting to creep up on her when she noticed just how slow the percentage was moving.  

Too annoyed to continue looking at the monitor, she climbed back up the stairs; yet when she reached the top, a smell, that made the hairs stand at the back of her neck, reached her nose.  

Smoke.  

The corridor was grey when she emerged from the basement, and the thick cloud made her cough uncomfortably. As though that wasn’t enough, she could see the reflection of orange flames at the back of the long corridor, slowly but surely moving up in their direction. The lack of soldiers rolling in suddenly made sense; they would rather burn them alive and destroy the information in the process, than attempt – and potentially fail – at protecting it.  

“Sir!” she ran downstairs, the urgency in her voice catching Price’s attention, “The building’s on fire.”  

“Shit!” he exclaimed, and it seemed like her words triggered his senses, because the moment she told him, he could smell the thick smoke filling up the room.  

A window was smashed, and she pointed her gun at the top of the stairs. Maybe she was wrong, they weren’t going to let them burn alive; they were going to make sure they were gone along with the information. The soldiers ran inside in pairs, the first two seemingly sacrificial lambs – catching all the bullets No-Face shot their way – the other pair using them as shields to make their way into the basement.  

They were too close to shoot, especially due to the fact they were charging at them like bulls. No-face caught a hand that attacked her, using her strength against the man that pounced at her. Price mirrored her motions, fighting against the other man, who instead aimed to destroy the computers.  

She grabbed her knife and shoved it into the man’s stomach, a choked cry leaving his lips as it penetrated his organs. There was no time to rest as another pair ran in. They were outnumbered, both of them having to fight against multiple men at a time.  

She threw punches at their faces, and kicks to their knees as the room filled with almost un-breathable fog. She slammed one of the men against a wall, and the impact itself sent him into unconsciousness. The hostiles were relentless, and she was certain her body was already covered in cuts and bruises of all sizes.  

When a jingle sounded from the computer, it was as though extra adrenaline began to rush through their blood. Their punches suddenly turned harsher, but with newfound motivation, she slammed one of their heads into a desk; the soldier fell to the floor with a loud thud.  

She could barely see at this point, the smoke too thick and grey for her senses to function properly. Her lungs weren’t doing well either, but neither were theirs – a soldier clutched his neck and coughed violently, struggling to breathe as he leaned against a wall. If she could see clearly, she would have shot him, but in truth her head was starting to feel dizzy, and she wasn’t entirely certain who she would be shooting at.  

She raced in the direction she hoped Price would be, but when she grabbed onto the man who was still beating into him, and pulled him away from the captain, Price yelled, “Go! Take the stick and go! She was hesitant, “It’s an-” he coughed, “That’s an order!”

With a cough of her own, she grabbed the stick and sprinted out of the basement. She didn’t care about the glass that cut into her skin when she jumped out the smashed window; she was hyperventilating, and the adrenaline didn’t even allow her to focus on the fact she just ran through the smouldering fires of what felt like hell.  

Her eyes were cloudy, and she could barely see anything; but when she heard the crunching of gravel beside her, she jumped into action. Her fist collided with a hard cheek, but was stopped by a familiar voice before she could do more damage.

“It’s me!” Thomas shouted, “Where’s Price?” he was grabbing onto her shoulders and shaking her to gain her attention.  

“Inside!” she croaked out, “Take this!” she shoved the stick into his chest, and he quickly placed it in his pocket, “We need medevac!”

When she pushed away from him and began moving back towards the fire, he stopped her, “Are you mad? You’re not going back there!”

“Price is there, Tom!” she spat, “I can’t let him die!”  

“Face-”

“No!” She pushed him off her, “You don’t understand! I can’t let him die!” The guilt would eat me alive.  

Hesitantly, with confusion in his eyes, he let go of her shoulders. He didn’t get it – he understood the need to keep a teammate safe, to not let a co-worker die, but this was different. She had to save him, no matter what, and the fire in her eyes rivalled that of the engulfed building.  

She rushed back inside the building despite the protests of her tired lungs, of her exhausted legs and eyes which stung as though someone had just spilled a cup of lemon juice onto them. She almost tripped on one of the dead bodies, her body flying forwards and nearly falling down the steep stairs.

The fire burned into her side, and she swore she could already feel the blisters forming on her hip, but she ignored the pain. The thick smoke deemed her vision useless, making it a struggle to keep them open – to keep fighting – as she fell to her knees in the basement.  

Her hands searched for him with great desperation, shuffling against the cement and pushing away the bodies that didn’t feel like him. It was his hat that she grabbed onto first, and her hands were quick to reach downward, the feeling of his beard slightly easing her nerves.  

She wasn’t sure where she found her strength, but she managed to push herself up, and with immense determination, she grabbed onto Price’s torso. He was heavy, his body almost crushing her as she pulled him to his feet, “Sir!” she choked on her words.  

He was still conscious, that much she could tell. His weight wasn’t fully on her, his legs moving by themselves as she led them both up the staircase. It was cramped, and difficult to move, but she had to get him to safety. Failure was not an option in this case.  

Even when she felt his consciousness slipping – his breathing screechy, and legs failing to keep him up – she continued. Her hold on him only tightened, and when she felt the fresh air from the broken window, she almost smiled.  

“Help,” she whispered, her own breathing weak, and her knees almost gave out. “Help!” she managed to raise her voice despite the pain that followed.  

After hearing the loud pounding of heavy footsteps, she felt Price being pulled out of her arms. Her hold subconsciously tightened around him, fearing it was hostiles who heard her pleas for help.  

“It’s alright!” a man assured her as they were helped out of the building.  

Thomas was immediately by her side, helping her walk as the medics tended to their captain. She wasn’t completely ignored, but truth be told, she couldn’t remember much of what happened. The moment she knew she was safe – the moment she knew Price was going to be alright – she felt herself slip out of consciousness.  

Tag List:  @jxvipike @smoggyfogbottom @stressyanddepressyfoodservice @boniscute @ohgodthebogisback @konigbabe​ @tapioca-marzipan @randomchick546 @jaimiespn​ @no-one-anon

[youngboy18plus]

Jinx Manhwa Characters Ranked and Season 2 updates

After Jinx Manhwa season 1 has ended, bl fans are patiently waiting for another season. However, we won't be getting that any time soon. You can check out here for more details: Jinx Chapter 54 Release Date: Season 1 ends, and more

Now let's start with my personal basis ranking for the Jinx Manhwa Characters

7. Jeong Yosep

Jaekyung spars with Yosep, who is also a previous national champion. Not only is he a coach, but he is also the oldest player on Team Black. Despite his reserved demeanor, Yosep is a generous soul who would rather let his deeds speak for themselves. Yosep was there to cheer Jaekyung on as he faced off against one of his most formidable enemies. His maturity and life experience set him apart from many who cower in the face of Jaekyung's wrath, a commendable quality in comparison to many.

6. Oh Daehyun

During Dan's official introduction to the team as Jaekyung's physical therapist, Daehyun, a member of Team Black, is one of the first individuals we observe being friendly to him. When it comes to Jaekyung, he defends Dan and also shows that he has a protective side toward the other man. Because of his friendship with Dan, he is well-liked by fans and has a magnetic personality that makes him simple to like.

5. Park Namwook

Team Black's coach and Jaehyung's caring manager is Namwook. He is one of the few individuals who can manage Jaekyung's erratic mood swings, and he also offers Dan guidance and watches out for him at the gym. His family—a wife, a son, and two daughters—and his career are his first priorities, and he goes above and beyond to ensure their happiness. Fans love Coach Namwook for good reason; he's always there to cheer everyone on, from his teammates to Dan, whom he falls in love with right away.

4. Yoon-gu

Yoon-gu is still attempting to establish himself to his comrades despite being the youngest member of Team Black. Regardless of Jaekyung's sour disposition, he endures taunting with unfaltering trust. Because Yoon-Gu looks up to Jaekyun and wishes he could practice with him, he is initially envious of Dan's time with Jaekyun. After Dan gets him a sparring session with Jaekyung, he befriends Dan.

3. Jaekyung

Joo Jaekyung has a ways to go before he is seen as likeable or the favorite of the boys, despite being Jinx's love interest and the second main character. He brings the same haughty, cold attitude to the bedroom as he does to his undefeated mixed martial arts career. He proposes to Kim Dan because he is superstitious and believes he will be "jinxed" and lose if he doesn't sleep with someone before a match. When it comes to Dan, he is harsh, and he is unpredictable with everyone else.

2. Choi

Actor Heesung is Jaekyung's colleague at the talent agency. Heesung is an awful lover, even if he's handsome and nice most of the time. When he develops romantic feelings for another man, he often finds that she is more overtly in love than he is, and he rapidly grows bored with her. Since this is the root cause of his troubled romantic history, it becomes problematic when he sets his sights on Dan. The majority of the manhwa is devoted to him pursuing Dan, but he gives up when he sees how helpless he is.

Check out the special Jinx manhwa special chapter of Choi and Potato.

1. Kim Dan

As a protagonist, Kim Dan is perfect in every way. Despite his hardships, he is kind, selfless, and trying to make ends meet. Dan is practically out of luck when it comes to finding work as a physical therapist due to an incident at his last workplace and an angry supervisor. So, when superstar Joo Jaekyung makes him an enticing offer, Dan has no choice but to take it.

All Pic Source from Lezhin Comics

[tagedeszorns]

Three versions of colouring (or not colouring) Erebus for Marine Meat Monday.

In his stone-grey Mark IV plate, inscribed with bas-relief legacies of his deeds, Erebus was a sombre, serious figure. His rank in the XVII was first chaplain, roughly equivalent to that of Abaddon or Eidolon. He was a senior commander of that Legion, close to Kor Phaeron and the primarch, Lorgar, himself. His quiet manner and soft, composed voice commanded instant respect from all who met him, but the Luna Wolves had embraced him anyway. The Wolves had historically enjoyed a relationship with the Bearers as close as the one they had formed with the Emperor’s Children.

Abnett, Dan. Horus Rising (Horus Heresy Book 1) (S.373). Black Library. Kindle-Version.

First appearance of Erebus during the Heresy. He gets friendly with the Mournival, spars with them and Lucius and Saul and beats everybody except Lucius.

I love him.

[centuryberry]

@peachshadows / @terrible-leviathan Here’s another chapter where MK bonds with his not-parents after he’s in a situation where he’s forced to.

Or: MK and A-Dan fight.

“A-Dan, you need to apologize.”

MK wasn’t unfamiliar with A-Dan’s tendency to prank the people around her whenever she was bored. Seeing people spring her traps and react to whatever she threw at them always made her day. Whenever anyone heard her Monkey King laugh, they’d know she pulled off yet another successful prank.

“Baby Monkey enrichment, Bud,” his Wukong had told him with a laugh when he complained about being caught up in A-Dan’s latest prank. “It’s actually a lot less destructive than what I did at her age. It’s all in good fun and completely harmless.”

But recently, her pranks, which had been randomly scattered around to catch anyone unlucky to come across them, suddenly became focused on specific targets.

Specific targets being Red Son and Mei.

MK couldn’t understand. A-Dan never seemed to have an issue with Red Son and Mei back in their own world. And the ones in this world seemed almost desperate for any positive interaction with her. So why? Why the dislike and the mean-spirited pranks? A-Dan was usually so sweet. With a pang, MK wondered if this was because she thought being aggressive was normal and okay. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched since this world was ruled by a Monkey King who thrived in violence.

MK really had to find a way back home and soon.

Beside him, Red Son was covered from head to toe with paint, mud, and overripe fruit. By now, MK’s own Red Son would’ve been fuming at having his clothes ruined, but this one only looked between MK and A-Dan with a worried crease in his brow. He raises his hands placatingly with a strained smile. “It’s all right, my Prince! You don’t need to make Princess Xiaodan apologize! It’s just a small mess that can easily be cleaned up. I am fine! I-”

MK cut him off with a shake of his head. “This is the fifth time she’s done this to you! Today! And she did something similar to Mei last week! And she’d do it to Jin and Yin too whenever they drop by for a friendly spar.”

“…There are other demons trying to court you?”

“Not important.” MK ignored Red Son’s enraged spluttering in favor of looking back up at the tree where A-Dan was pouting and pointedly ignoring MK. “A-Dan, apologize.”

A-Dan stuck her tongue out. “No.”

“A-Dan,” MK said warningly.

“No!” She cried out stubbornly from her perch on the tree. She turned her nose up at Red Son. “Dun wanna! Dumb Red!”

“No mean name-calling! You know better, A-Dan. Red Son doesn’t deserve mean names, he deserves an apology.”

“NO!”

MK’s already fragile patience snapped. “That’s it. If you’re not going to apologize, then you leave me with no other choice. Time out and no bedtime stories for tonight.”

A-Dan was shocked at MK’s abrupt decision to punish her. It was no surprise. This was the first time MK had to play the “bad guy” when babysitting her. When she fully processed his firm verdict, her face twisted with hurt and betrayal. Her eyes welled up with tears.

“A-DAN HATE GEGE!” She shouted loudly, startling some of the nearby birds from their perch. The moment the words left her mouth, she gasped and stared at MK with horror.

“…Gege?”

“…”

MK didn’t know what expression he had on his face, but whatever it was, it made A-Dan burst into loud, sobbing wails.

The effect was immediate. Wukong and Macaque seemingly materialized out of nowhere. The darker furred monkey wasted no time in climbing up the tree to check A-Dan over. When it was confirmed that she wasn’t physically hurt, he plucked her from the branch and held her close, cooing into her ears as she cried into his chest. After sharing a look with Wukong, he shadow-portaled them both away.

Wukong, on the other hand, tried to get the story out of Red Son and MK.

But MK was completely unresponsive, leaving it to Red Son to shakily explain what happened. When the fire demon got to the part about A-Dan’s declaration that she “hated Gege,” Wukong audibly winced and sent MK a pitying look.

“I think it’ll be best if I send you back to Brother Ox for the day.” It wasn’t a suggestion. Wukong never suggested. He ordered. He demanded.

And Red Son, for once, did not fight the dismissal. On a normal day, he’d fight for some more time, but he knew which battles shouldn’t be fought. After giving MK a soft farewell, Red Son left the mountain in a flurry of flames - mess and all.

MK just stared straight at nothing as A-Dan’s words rattled again and again in his head. She hated him. She hated him.

A logical part of him knew she didn’t mean it. That it was said in anger. But another part of him that clung onto A-Dan as his last anchor in this world so familiar yet so unfamiliar reeled at the prospect that she hated him and would hate him forever.

MK was shaken out of his thoughts. Literally. The Monkey King had him by the shoulders and stared him right in the eyes.

“Pick up your staff, kid. We’re sparring.”

Again, not a request, but an order. MK, still reeling from A-Dan’s words, could only comply. He got batted around at first - this Wukong didn’t do as well as his own in holding back - but then, he fell right into the familiar rhythm of sparring against his mentor. It was a bit harder, but MK needed the challenge.

No matter how hard the strikes landed or how many times he was thrown down by Wukong’s strength, he got back up.

As MK met every one of Wukong’s strikes, the Monkey King started to grin, then smile, then full out laugh. It wasn’t one of the cheeky ones MK was familiar with, the one that A-Dan inherited. It was wild and dangerous and completely unlike his mentor.

And for once, MK didn’t mind. His mouth hurt as he mirrored the smile as he continued to stand his ground. It went on for hours until after the sun went down and the moon rose.

“Good form! You did great, bud!” Wukong praised him at the end of it all. There was pride in his eyes so familiar that, for a moment, MK could pretend that it was his mentor standing right in front of him praising him after an arduous day of training.

Instead of giving him comfort, it only made the homesickness festering in his chest worse. His chest ached to return to his own world where he was MK the Monkie Kid, not MK the Prince of the Three Realms. MK was so, so afraid that the longer he and A-Dan and he stayed here, the more she would change and forget about their home. If that ever happened, he’d be the only one left and the thought of it clogged his throat with fear. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home.

“Monkey King?” MK’s voice cracked with vulnerability as he hugged his staff to his chest. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Aww, son. No, don’t cry. C’mere.” MK felt arms wrap around him and draw him close into a hug. It was a hug with nuzzles and deep purring. It was…nice. MK didn’t know that this Wukong could give nice hugs. “A-Dan didn’t mean it. You know that, right? She loves you a lot. Emotions just ran a bit too high and she said something she didn’t mean.”

MK sniffled. He felt Wukong’s hand card through his hair and heard the Monkey King make crooning chirps.

“You both take after Moonlight and me a little too much sometimes,” he chuckled with some bitter irony lacing his tone after MK calmed down. “You cubs even argue like us. A-Dan might look like her Mama, but she got my temper and she ends up saying things she doesn’t mean. And you’re a little bit more like Moonlight when he gets upset. You kinda shut down like him when you get overwhelmed.”

MK froze. “Say what now?”

Wukong gave his head a light pat. “Don’t worry, that just means that it’ll take time and time apart for tempers to cool and things to get back to normal again.” Then, probably misunderstanding the alarmed sway of MK’s tail, he quickly added, “We can try to give A-Dan some gifts to make her forgive you faster. How about that, bud? …Bud?”

MK’s whole body shook. His attempts to keep in the hysterical laughter bubbling up his throat end up failing. The panic and uncertainty in Wukong’s face when he drew back only made MK laugh harder.

“Oh wow, I was an idiot,” he managed to say between gasps and giggles. MK somehow got a hold of himself after a few more minutes. He wiped his eyes and smiled at Wukong. “Let’s go back to the palace. I need to talk to A-Dan.”

When MK and Wukong reached the palace, they found A-Dan still sniffling in Macaque’s arms. Upon their entrance, she immediately hid her face into the crook of Macaque’s neck. Sending MK an apologetic look, the dark furred monkey drew her closer. “Maybe right now is not the best time, MK. You can come back tomorrow and try again when she’s not as upset.”

“A-Dan?” MK called out softly, ignoring Macaque. “A-Dan, you don’t have to talk to me or look at me. That’s okay. I just wanted you to know that I’m not angry.”

A-Dan cautiously peered at MK. “…No?”

“No.” MK sat down on the ground so she was peering down at him. “I was hurt by what you said, but I’m not angry. You were hurt too, right?”

A-Dan nodded.

“I can’t always know what you’re feeling or thinking, A-Dan,” MK told her gently. “You need to turn those things into words and tell them to me. Remember the story about the Hero with the Broken Mouth and the Warrior with the Broken Ears? Well, I had broken ears today and I’m sorry about that. I promise to listen, not hear, as long as you talk to me.”

A-Dan nodded, untangling herself from Macaque. “Okay. A-Dan talk.”

MK smiled encouragingly. “Thank you. Now…can you tell me why you were upset, A-Dan? Did Red Son do something to you that was mean when I wasn’t looking? Is that why you don’t like him?”

A-Dan fidgeted. “…No.”

Well. That’s a relief. But still, it didn’t answer MK’s questions. “Then why?”

“Scared.”

MK startled at that. “Scared? Do you think Red Son is scary?” Then, he remembered the other victims of her pranking. “Mei too?” That didn’t make sense. A-Dan adored the Mei in their own world. To his relief and confusion, she shook her head.

“Take Gege away,” A-Dan mumbled. “Gege play Red. Gege play Mei-Mei. No more A-Dan play.” Her expression fell. “Take Gege from A-Dan.”

MK’s heart broke. “A-Dan…”

A-Dan started to tear up again, but they were angry tears this time. “No take Gege. My Gege. Mine!”

In no time, MK climbed back up onto his feet and snatched A-Dan into a tight hug. “Oh, A-Dan, no. I’m not going to leave you behind for someone else. Not Red Son. Not Mei. You’re the most important person in the world to me. If anything, I’ll bring you with me if I have to go somewhere else. But never without you. Ever.”

A-Dan sniffled. “Ever?”

“Ever. And I’m sorry if you felt left out whenever they visited. I never meant for you to feel that way,” MK apologized. “I’ll do better, A-Dan. Promise to tell me if you feel like that again? No more pranks for hurting. Just tell me and I’ll fix it.”

“Promise.” A-Dan nuzzled MK. “Sorry Gege. Love. No hate. Sorry.”

MK felt relief hit him and his shoulder sagged as if a mountain fell off his back. “I love you too, A-Dan. And you know what? I was a little scared about losing you too.”

A-Dan stared up at MK incredulously. “Ah?!”

MK grinned. “Yeah. You spent more time on pranks that there wasn’t any time for Gege. Don’t you know how lonely I was without my A-Dan? I thought you loved pranks more than me.” He dramatically sniffled and made a sobbing noise. “Your poor Gege was jealous and heartbroken.”

“Noooooo! A-Dan love Gege!” A-Dan cried out, throwing her arms around MK as best she could, which wasn’t much with her tiny arms, but it was the thought that counted. “No prank. Promise. A-Dan sorry Red. A-Dan sorry Mei-Mei.”

“No mean pranks,” MK corrected her gently. “You can do fun pranks. We can do it together after you apologize to Red Son and Mei. How does that sound?”

“Yay! Gege play!”

In the background Wukong and Macaque sighed in relief and smiled. In mid-celebration, A-Dan yawned. “Oh geez, it’s way past your bedtime, A-Dan. You must be exhausted. Time to sleep.”

“Noooo,” A-Dan whined. “Gege story.”

“Okay, since you said you’ll apologize, I’ll tell you a story - but only one! So choose wisely!”

A-Dan, of course, chose the story of the Hero and the Warrior. It was her favorite to hear. And it was fitting since it was this exact story’s lesson that helped him and A-Dan reconcile.

A-Dan settled in bed between Wukong and Macaque. MK cleared his throat and tried to put on his best storytelling voice. “Once upon a time, there was a Hero and a Warrior. The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon…”

MK was regretful that he couldn’t manipulate the shadows like his Macaque did to make the story come to life, but he made sure to put his heart into the performance.

“…The Hero learned to speak from the heart and the Warrior learned to listen instead of hear. Their bond was stronger than it’s ever been.”

MK was suddenly interrupted by a soft snore. He looked up to see Wukong and A-Dan sleeping. Macaque, on the other hand, seemed enraptured by the story. “Go on,” he encouraged. “What happens next?”

“Healed and back together, the Hero and the Warrior celebrated their reunion by bringing a little dawn into the world,” MK continued softly.

“A-Dan.”

“Yes. A-Dan,” MK agreed. “And they lived happily ever after until the end of time. The end.”

“That was a beautiful story,” Macaque murmured. Then, when MK yawned, he patted the space in the bed between himself and A-Dan. “Time for bed, cub.”

MK couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. He was too tired to make the trek back to his room so he crawled onto the bed and settled in Macaque’s hold. As the darker-furred monkey hummed, MK felt himself drifting to sleep. Usually, he’d fall asleep with a heavy heart that missed his home. He still missed his home, but tonight?

Tonight, his heart felt light.

[distractedhistotech]

My dream subconscious came up with a Kingdom Hearts/Honkai: star rail crossover.

Literally, this never even occurred to me until I dreamt it. It could work though.

So at some point, Sora ended up on the Astral Express without memories (something to do with his chains of memory which made it so memokeepers can't fix it; yes, that was included in my dream). I am not sure when in the Kingdom Hearts timeline this happened.

Sora ended up staying with the Astral Express and becoming a Nameless, which makes sense. He had the mindset for the Path of Trailblaze way back in the first Kingdom Hearts game. He and March probably bond over their amnesia. And then bond with the Trailblazer over their amnesia too. This story unintentionally ended up with a lot of amnesiacs. Sora probably spars with Dan Heng a lot.

Meanwhile, everyone is wondering why he has a giant disappearing key as a weapon. Is it connected to why nothing locks properly when he's around? Sora has picked so many locks without meaning to, and he has no idea how he's doing it or how to stop. He avoids the sealed up Stellaron like the plague. He doesn't want to be the reason one of those horrible Cancer things get loose.

That's all I could get from my dream. It was an unusually detailed dream. I kind of muse what Sora would be like gameplay-wise. Which path would his fighting style correspond to? What element would he use? Would he have multiple elements like the Trailblazer due to his forgotten magical abilities? How would Sora's presence affect their expeditions? Will his Dream Eaters show up in Penacony's dream and cause mass chaos?

Actually, that last one would be pretty funny. Sora's playing with these friendly critters while the Family is panicking because those were not made by any of the Dreamweavers.

I kind of wanna write this now.

[dpmultibitches]

Follows back from @kaylathebitch30

Jazz Info

Talia Info

Danielle Info

Dan Info

Aidan Al Ghul, called Danny by his brother who he in turn called Dami, was born just seconds before his brother Damian. He however came out silent, only beginning his time in the world after a dip in the Lazarus Pit. This always caused a friendly argument between him and his brother over who was older, him or Damian. Danny said it was him, well Damian said that because he wasn’t actually alive until his dunk in The Pit it didn’t count. During the minutes before his revival in the pit his brother was screaming for the return of his brother, an anger in his scream that one would except from the Heir to the Demon’s Head. It was only once his brother was breathing again next to him that he finally settled and ate.

Aidan and Damian look near identical with small differences, the most notable is how much more Danny looks like their father. His skin lighter even if it does tan easily, his eyes a bright blue instead of green like their mothers. Over the years is became clear that well Aidan did excel in stealth and could vanish into the shadows at a moments notice, he didn’t surpass his brother in any other skills. He could vanish silently from sight by the age of 3, and by the age of 5 he was skilled with a sword just as his brother was-but he was far from being able to best his brother in a fight. Despite this he was still more skilled than many fighters older than him, and he could spar with most twice his size and come out on top with a few exceptions. Together with his brother? There were few who could best them even within The League. He was pushed just as hard as his brother though, and their grandfather expected nothing but perfection from the both of them.

He was given numerous tests in the form of both training and missions, and when he failed on a mission at the age of 8? He should have been killed. His mother though had followed him on the mission as she did with either of them when possible, and though she knew what was expected the idea of either one of her sons being killed was not one that she could tolerate. So she dropped Aidan in a small town in Ohio and told him that Aidan Al Ghul was dead, and he needed to stay that way if he expected to stay alive. Her parting words to him were that it The League ever found him? Go to Gotham and tell Bruce Wayne he was her son. He didn’t understand why until almost 2 years later when Tucker showed him a picture of Bruce Wayne’s newest son.

He was living on the streets in Amity for 2 months on his own before he was discovered, he kept to the shadows well enough that it wasn’t until a young girl was fishing a cat out of a dumpster he had been looking for food in saw him. She told him her name was Jazz and asked where he lived, he told her he didn’t have a home and gave the name Danny when asked. She assumed his name was Daniel, less than 20 minutes later she was dragging him through the front door of the Fenton house basically telling her parents that they were taking him in.

It wasn’t entirely that simple, they had to attempt to look for his parents and there was legalities involved. A few badly answered questions though and vaguely implying that his parents were dead and he was put into foster care, how the Fentons were approved he would never understand-but after just 6 months to get the paperwork in order they adopted him. Eventually he told Jazz he had a twin after she found him sneaking out to look at the stars, it was maybe 3 weeks after Damian was announced as Bruce Wayne’s son and Danny had a panic attack in the middle of the hallway at school-but he didn’t tell her everything.

He told her that they were inseparable until they weren’t, that they used to sneak out and look at the stars when they were suppose to be sleeping some nights because his brother knew how much he loved the stars, how tough their grandfather was on them. He told her that he used to say that their grandfather was like Orion and him and his brother were his hunting dogs, how his brother would always insist that he was Canis Major and he was Minor and they would end up fighting in the dark before their mother would find them and scold them. She would tell them that they were lucky that it was her and not Grandfather who found them and send them off to bed, they would lay next to each other because being apart during lessons was enough.

He admitted to her that he didn’t mind if he was Canis Minor and Dami was Major, he just liked teasing his brother and wished he could be with him again. 3 days later when Danny came home from school there was about 10 packs of glow in the dark stars on his bed, and any time he had a nightmare Jazz would crawl into bed with him and hug him.

Eventually Danny gets his powers, at some point he fights the Ghost King and finds out awhile later that besting the other now means he is the Ghost King. He starts learning more about The Ghost Zone, most of the ghosts who regularly bother him still do so-but it's more out of routine than trying to actually win.  Well he’s not officially acting as Ghost King he is technically crowned on his 16th birthday, however he assigned his own council when he was. That consisted of Pandora, Frostbite, Dorothea and Wulf, with the idea that in the case of a stalemate he would be the deciding vote.

Danny isn't stupid by any means, he knows how important it is to do his job well. Pariah Dark had let The Ghost Zone delve into chaos, and the living world has suffered because of that. Ruling on his own though it a future problem that is daunting to him however, he’s not only afraid that the power will go to his head like it did Pariah-but afraid that he will turn into the kind of ruler that his grandfather did. Dealing with the alternate version of himself though? It only made that fear worse. It was nearly a month after his crowning that he came clean to his friends and sister about just how much he remembered about his past.

They almost didn’t believe him and even when they started to it took convincing, him a trained assassin? Really? Once that was done though the reveal that Damian Wayne was the twin brother he told them about almost lost them again, but then Tucker pulled up a picture of the only biological Wayne Son on his phone and squinted between looking at the picture and then Danny for about 3 minutes straight before yelling out “Holy shit your Damian Wayne’s twin, your Bruce Wayne’s son. Dude!”. They didn’t ask how many people he had killed before he was declared dead, even though the “an assassin?” at the end of the conversation from Jazz and the way Sam and Tuck just sort of looked down told him they wanted to.

He’s glad they didn’t. He wouldn’t have lied to them, and he didn’t want them to leave him.

Then he decided to tell his parents about the ghost thing just a month after that, maybe he should have waited until he wasn’t living at home anymore-it probably would have been safer. They didn’t seem to know how to respond, they seemed conflicted between loving him and their hatred of ghosts. The later won out even if the former was still true, they tried to get the ghost out of him and let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. It was Pandora who freed him, Jazz was away touring a college campus. The Grecian Ghost had declared herself his Infinite Realm guardian not long before he was crowned after asking him if he would be fine with that, she sensed something wasn’t right even before the experiments his parents did to try and depossess him started causing quakes within The Zone because of his connection as King.

If she had it her way he would have stayed in The Zone, but he told her that he knew somewhere safe, somewhere that his parents research said had a good amount of ambient ectoplasm in the air. It was an excuse, he had stayed in Amity because of his family and his friends and now it wasn’t safe. He had a reason to go and find Damian. He’d wanted to ever since that day he saw the picture Tucker showed him that caused a panic attack. He told himself that it wasn’t safe though, he tld himself that The League couldn’t know he was alive. Then he’d had his accident and he could have handled it, but he told himself that he needed to stay and make sure the ghosts and humans didn’t kill each other.

Now his excuses gave him a reason to go to Gotham and see his brother again, if Damian even wanted to see him.

PSA: I know most DC people don't play timelines where Damian is over like 13-14, because of that in those cases I just bump Danny's timeline by 2-3 years so he got his powers at 11-12 instead of 14. In that case he is in fact the next king of the Ghost Zone and learns that 2-3 years early but does not get crowned King until he is 16.

He does however get crowned Prince and appoints his council at either 13 or 14, depending on what age he ends up in Gotham and tells his parents about being Phantom roughly a month after being officially made Crown Prince. He doesn't really have any responsibility's other than learning about the realm until he is crowned King, but he had have to meet with the council at least once a month to get updated on what's going on.

[shining-gem34]

‘ here, try it again. ’ for dan heng!

Sparring/Training || Accepted @chasersglow

It is not arrogance Dan Heng admits he is strong. He is well-aware of his strength, but he is terrified of the power within him. A magic so vast it can command the seas and rain down destruction; flooding the battlefields and reduce it to nothing. The gift of his lineage that Dan Heng prays it remains unused for a long time.

So Dan Heng ignores it as long as he can, preferring to rely on his spear and beckon the winds to his call. A branch of his main element where he is comfortable using without fear.

Without fearing he'll accidentally harm his companions, especially in a friendly spar...

He raises his spear to block the incoming attack. The circular saw blades continues their relentless strikes. Metal sparks between them causing embers to fly and highlight Himeko face. Her brows are knitted together in concentration, strong arms keeping a tight grip on her suitcase. But Dan Heng attention is caught by her eyes.

A familiar golden hue that wasn't the sun he first saw, but filled with the constellations reflected in her eyes.

Dan Heng doesn't realize his mistake until it's too late. His lapse in concentration makes his grip falter and the molecular saw climbs up rapidly. With the saw blades inches away from his face, Dan Heng breath stills as a flash of REDBLOODBLACKDEATH fills his vision.

His instincts immediately kicked in. Water surges forth out of thin air, pushing Himeko and her weapon away from him. With blood roaring in his ears, Dan Heng doesn't hear anything until the blades are away from his face. Teal eyes widened once he processed what happened now the danger is gone.

The cabin floor is soaked, and Dan Heng imagines Pom-Pom will not be pleased to see the damage. But his main concern is Himeko, who is seemingly alright as she stands up. It doesn't stop the bile rising in his throat because not only he was distracted; he also tapped into the power he loathed to use.

"I...I apologize, Miss Himeko. Are you hurt?" Dan Heng takes a step forward and reaches out. He pauses, lowering his hand and looks away in shame.

A melodious laugh eases the tension followed by a light, "Here, let's try again."

Snapping his head up, Dan Heng looks at Himeko in surprise. He is silent at first, but he asks her, "...I was careless as you saw earlier. Are you sure you want to resume this match?"

[grimmplacehq]

CHARACTER INFORMATION:

Character name: Dirk Cresswell Age: 20  Birthday: March 18th 1959 Gender and pronouns: CisMale, He/Him Blood Status: Muggleborn Affiliation: Order Former House: Hufflepuff Occupation: Goblin Liaison Officer Faceclaim: Ryan Pottter

Dirk is taken by Eoin

BIOGRAPHY:

  TW: Racism

  Dirk was no stranger to being different, he’d felt singled out since the moment he was old enough to realise the other kids in his school looked different. His mother was British, his father Japanese and he’d spent the first four years of his life being raised in Tokyo. His father was a prominent businessman and when he was transferred to London he and his mother didn’t hesitate to immigrate, the pay and benefits too good to pass up. They’d only been in London for a few months before Dirk was enrolled in nursery and already his linguistic skills were starting to show themselves. He picked up English quicker than some of his native schoolmates and had thought they’d all be good friends until another boy in his class told him to ‘go back to China.’ He’d been confused, he was Japanese? And upset. Running home after school he cried to his mother who sat him down and explained some people, small minded, cruel people, wouldn’t accept him simply because he was born somewhere different. But, despite their cruelty, he needed to stay kind. It was a lesson he strove to never forget.

  So, Dirk continued to grow as a happy, healthy boy. His passions were, Akido, which his father taught him every evening (with a bo staff and without), and languages, which his mother taught him more when he got home from school. By the time he was eleven Dirk he’d earned his first dan grade (entry black belt) in Akido and spoke fluent English, Japanese, Mandarin and some French. It had been a usual afternoon in the summer holidays when a knock came to their door and a strangely dressed man came in to speak to his parents. It turned out he had magic! Strange as it seemed some things made sense to Dirk now… a time he’d swore a cup moved before he touched it, or when a bad fall in a sparring match didn’t seem to hurt him at all. But, having it confirmed in such a way was shocking. His parents, ever practical, had a million questions and Dirk sat quietly and politely, drinking in as much as he could.

  Hogwarts was… amazing and terrifying in equal measure. He’d followed the other kids, though ended up standing with the more nervous looking ones as a stern woman held a hat out then placed it on his head. A voice told him he showed great intelligence, and a kindness and understanding beyond his years. It asked him if he’d rather be smart or kind and remembering his mother’s words he’d answered ‘kind.’ “Hufflepuff!” Was yelled to the hall and he stood on wobbly legs to go over to his new table, seeing several friendly faces greeting him. Turns out, he’d chosen wisely, by the end of the feast he had several friends who seemed as interested in his muggle life as he was in their magical ones. Even better, a girl in his year came from normal- muggle- parents as well!

  He excelled in school but was saddened when he saw no languages on his timetable. Dirk held back after a Herbology lesson to speak with Professor Sprout and tried to explain to her how much he loved languages and all the different ones he could speak. She listened and thrilled with his passion passed on his request to Professor Dumbledore. Within a week he was pulled from a class to meet Arlor, a goblin from Gringotts and Vorsel Udek, a member of the mertribe in Hogwarts’ Great Lake. His face lit up as he learned both were willing to teach him their languages and Dirk’s time in school became set. By his fifth year he’d mastered both languages and was close friends with the mertribe of the Great Lake and several members of Gringotts, chatting fluent Gobbledegook when he stopped by every August with his parents. He left Hogwarts with O’s and E’s in his Newts and (partly thanks to a very strong reference from Arlor) a job training with the Goblin Liaison Office under the department’s head, Cuthbert Mockridge. Despite his age he fit in well and carried out as much work as he could, other departments even asking to borrow him on occasion for his polyglot abilities.

  Despite being so settled in the magical world, Dirk never forgot his muggle upbringing. He finished learning Mandarin, earned his second dan blackbelt (a third could only be offered to a master sensei) and still loved muggle culture. He had a TV in his own small London apartment, phones installed and spoke to his family and some old primary school friends. Dirk saw himself as a mixture of many cultures, British, Japanese, Magical and Muggle. He strove to be kind to everyone, being or beast and treat all equally, this only endeared him further to goblins and merfolk and many other people at the ministry. As the conflict between the Order and Death Eaters began, Professor Dumbledore came to him with a request to join the Order and he accepted; while he never saw conflict, Dirk made himself very useful chatting with Goblins, Merfolk and Giants (he was one of five people in the UK who were passable in Giantongue) earning intel and building alliances. When the battle came to a swift conclusion, Dirk happily continued with his life, working at the ministry, meeting friends and living the best life he could!

[maskednihilism]

The Azure Dragon slowly circles the thief, though rather than a visible tail they seem to instead be tethered to Dan Heng's torso, fading into him.

Under most circumstances this is something he would keep hidden from Koski. But perhaps the introduction will prove beneficial. He would like to spar with Sampo at some point without having to hold back as much. So them seeing the dragon in person...

Said dragon pauses after its third loop, coming to a halt to directly face Koski, whereupon it decides to shrink enough to bop it's about against Sampo's unarmed shoulder before laying its head there, claw gripping matching arm but not hard enough to hurt. And no intent on moving soon. Even though they're getting Sampo's jacket wet.

Dan Heng sighs at the sight, but the faint curve to his lips betrays amusement more than frustration. Koski has no right to be upset though, they were told it was made of water. Yet even so, ❝I'll find you a towel later. Be glad it wasn't your hair.❞

~Starlighttrain

@starlighttrain || drago prompt! || from Dan Heng

Now he's seen strange things in his many years. Sampo is a seasoned man after all. But it still doesn't help with how this ghostly looking beast circles him. It's evident as he's frozen in place, face showing his fear.

A small eep! escapes the thief's lips as it decides his shoulder was a good resting place for its head. And it's claw.

"Oh yes, I'm very glad." Not! What if it went for his face?! His arms?! His...!!

"L-Listen pikkuveli (little brother), he's a friendly dragon right? It's not going to..." he trusted Dan Heng. Truly he did. But beasts were a different breed. Look at Mimi for example. Or Jing Nyan. Or Jing Yuan himself! They were all uncontrollable and did what they wanted!

Truly followers of Elation if there ever was one!

"I think Big Brother has had enough, thank you." Sampo said, gently putting a hand on the creature's chest to push him off. He prays to the Aeons he gets to keep that hand.

[gwendoline-of-lumiose]

📼

"En garde!"

Wooden sword in hand, a young girl faces her opponent. Not many truly trust pokemon, but she has always had an affinity for Monorpale, the Sword Pokemon.

"Montre moi ce que tu peux faire!"

Wood and steel clash in the friendly spar on the outskirts of Lumiose. There is a war going on, she has no parents, her life is in shambles at the age of 11.

But she can still fight to forget.

"Pour une épée flottante, vous avez pas mal de poids dans vos attaques!"

With a chirp, her opponent strikes her down, and she lies on the floor laughing.

"Bon, je cède!"

And she gets back up to start again.

[rcsetorn]

@danthekickingman​:  Distance was often present in his gaze, but today it was different - a rare somber tint lingering within. For a moment silence reigned, an uninterrupted introspection that might have continued endlessly were it not for the sound of a sudden question. "Would you be up for a spar?" he asked of the general.

╼ ༺ :||             Of course she had never once considered Dan anything closer than a professional acquaintance.  Sure they were on friendly terms, but only in a matter of agreeable company compared to the scoundrels both of high and low class.  And neither possessed further interests than what was deemed beneficial.

     This sporadic sparring practically drove away the ache of muscles stiff from days unused.  With a roll of her shoulders, Beatrix practically hopped up from her Windsor chair, ready to take their tussle outside.  As if her eagerness wasn’t already evident, the General begged the question.  “Would you prefer this skirmish basic hand-to-hand?  A sword without doubt ends in my favor, and I’d much prefer a little equal footing between us.”

     Lack of paying due awareness, she finally took a look at her companion and the previous smile faulted.  Curious and.... concerned.